


Lap Dance

by Gemma Kingsley (gkingsley)



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2017-12-31 08:21:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gkingsley/pseuds/Gemma%20Kingsley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The idea that she might be posing as a stripper to get to the bottom of a story was….<i>disturbing</i> in more ways than one. It was all too easy for Will’s traitorous mind to conjure up an image of what MacKenzie would look like in nothing but lacy black lingerie and thigh high stockings.</p>
<p>Set pre-Genoa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

“That’s NewsNight for April 6. Terry Smith is up next with the Capitol Report. I’m Will McAvoy. Good night.”  
  
As soon as the red light blinked off, he shot up from the desk and strode straight to the control room, shouldering open the heavy glass door.  
  
“Mac, I need to talk to–” he started, but cut himself off as he realized she was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Jim looked up. “You just missed her. Try her office, but you’ll have to be quick.”  
  
Although he followed Jim’s suggestion, Will already knew what he’d find. MacKenzie’s office was dark; folders stacked neatly on the desk, her coat absent from its hook.  
  
“Damnit.”  
  
That made it five nights in a row that MacKenzie had vanished from the newsroom moments after the broadcast ended. _What in the hell was going on?_  
  
Will swung round, itching for a confrontation. His eyes narrowed as he spotted NewsNight’s senior producer entering the bullpen.  
  
“Jim, my office. Now,” he bellowed.  
  
Jim gulped. If Will’s tone hadn’t already made his mood patently obvious, the murderous expression currently adorning his face certainly would have.  
  
Trailing Will to his office, Jim rapped on the glass door.  
  
“Come in, come in,” said Will testily.  
  
“What can I do for you, Will?” asked Jim with studied politeness. “I’m sure MacKenzie would–”  
  
“You’re sure MacKenzie would what?”  
  
“–want me to provide you with whatever assistance you need,” Jim finished.  
  
“Great, then we’re on the same page,” Will said. “So where the _fuck_ is MacKenzie?”  
  
Jim couldn’t help but flinch as Will drove his fist hard into the desk for emphasis.  
  
“I-I imagine she’s gone home,” he managed to stutter. “She seemed tired – very tired – don’t you think?”  
  
Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _Loyalty to MacKenzie showing front and center. Time for a different approach._  
  
“Have a seat, Jim,” said Will, adding, “that wasn’t a request,” when Jim still stood, gaping at him, a few seconds later.  
  
Jim slid gracelessly into a chair as Will fetched two heavy tumblers and poured a generous measure of scotch into each of them.  
  
He picked up his glass and waited for Jim to do the same. “To being a team player.”  
  
Automatically, Jim echoed Will’s toast then nervously took an over-large swallow of his drink, coughing and spluttering as it burned his throat.  
  
With difficulty, Will managed to keep a straight face. “You alright?”  
  
“Yes, fine. I’m fine,” Jim said, placing his glass back firmly back on the desk.  
  
Will leaned towards him, plastering a look of concern on his face. _Now to go in for the kill._  
  
“Look, Jim. You and I know MacKenzie better than just about anyone, don’t we?” Will forced himself to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.  
  
Jim nodded.  
  
“She’s intelligent and experienced and incredibly passionate about what’s important to her,” Will continued. “But sometimes that passion can cloud her good judgement. And that’s why - if there’s something going on with MacKenzie, I need you to tell me. Now.”  
  
Jim’s gaze skittered around the room, as though he was seeing it for the first time. He opened his mouth to speak, seemed to think better of it and closed it, then rubbed at his eyes.  
  
“She can never know that I told you,” he finally said.  
  
“Goes without saying. I never reveal my sources,” quipped Will.  
  
Jim stifled a laugh before continuing. “She’s working on a story – has been all week. It’s something to do with a nightclub in the meatpacking district. And now you know as much as I do.”  
  
“I need a name, or an address,” said Will.  
  
Jim shrugged. “Can’t help you there. I know it’s not much but...” he trailed off.  
  
Will nodded and fell silent, staring unseeingly out the window. Jim fidgeted.  
  
“Uh, Will. Can I go now?” he asked. When he received no response he cleared his throat and tried again. “Will?”  
  
Will turned to look at him, frowning absently. “You’re still here? Why?”  
  
“No reason at all,” said Jim, almost leaping out of the chair in relief. “Have a good weekend. I’ll see you on Monday.”  
  
“Monday,” echoed Will absently.  
  
He leaned back and put his feet up on the desk, before picking up his Blackberry. Scrolling to MacKenzie’s name in his contacts list, he hit the call button but hung up when it went straight to voicemail.  
  
 _Where are you MacKenzie, and what are you up to?_  
  
Twenty minutes and a glass and a half of scotch later, the office had emptied. Apart from Will, who still sat morosely in his office, only a skeleton staff remained to monitor breaking news overnight. Everyone else had cleared out – heading home or to Hang Chews for Friday night drinks.  
  
So no-one paid the slightest bit of attention when Will walked out of his office and across the newsroom to MacKenzie’s. Nor did they notice when he switched on the light, sat in her chair and began to systematically rifle through her desk drawers.  
  
The first gave nothing away – a selection of pens and highlighters and a notepad page filled with MacKenzie’s neat cursive listing her feedback on the preceding week’s shows. ‘Find a way to suggest to Will that he scowls less when interviews aren’t going his way’, Will read, rolling his eyes.  
  
The second drawer was even less interesting to Will than the first. A stack of files which, when he flicked through them, proved to contain print-outs of run-downs and the original drafts of Will’s scripts, scrawled in his distinctive hand on yellow lined paper.  
  
But when he pulled out the third and final one, his response to its contents was purely Pavlovian. There was no mistaking the candy-floss pink bag adorned with a black bow, especially when _Agent Provocateur_ was printed on it in a decorative script.  
  
Resolutely ignoring the twinge of guilt he felt about invading MacKenzie’s privacy, Will helped himself to the bag and looked inside. It was disappointingly empty except for a receipt, dated several days earlier, for three items:  
  
 _Margot demi cup bra, French lace/satin 34B_  
 _Margot lace thong, Sz 2_  
 _Parisienne hold ups_  
  
Placing the receipt back into the bag, Will grimaced. Suddenly, everything seemed clearer. The tale MacKenzie had told Jim was nothing but a ruse, a cover story to hide the fact that she was leaving work at the earliest possible opportunity each night to spend time with a new boyfriend. Will assumed that the lucky son-of-a-bitch – whoever he might be – was currently ensconced in MacKenzie’s apartment, removing her lingerie with his teeth.  
  
The fact that MacKenzie had tried to spare his feelings – which he’d made blatantly clear at the time of the Wade Campbell debacle – didn’t make his discovery any easier to bear.  
  
But as Will moved to place the bag back in MacKenzie’s drawer, something else caught his eye – a small white card embossed with the pink silhouette of a cat.  
  
Curious, he turned it over. The other side held three lines of text.  
  
 _Pink Pussy Gentleman’s Club_  
13th and Washington  
New York, NY 10014  
  
Will visualized a map of Manhattan. 13th and Washington – smack bang in the middle of the meatpacking district. This changed everything, and it didn’t take Will any time at all to put two and two together.  
  
Jim’s revelation that MacKenzie was investigating a story involving a nightclub in the meatpacking district plus the Agent Provocateur receipt and finally the card he’d just unearthed. Unfortunately, Will wasn’t sure he liked the new conclusion he’d reached much better than the last one.  
  
“For fuck’s sake MacKenzie,” he said out loud.  
  
The idea that she might be posing as a stripper to get to the bottom of a story was…. _disturbing_ in more ways than one. It was all too easy for Will’s traitorous mind to conjure up an image of what MacKenzie would look like in nothing but lacy black lingerie and thigh high stockings.  
  
He’d be sitting on the couch in his apartment, mellow jazz playing on the stereo, the lights turned down low, and she’d be dancing just for him. Her hair would be loose and he’d watch as her hips circled lazily and –  
  
Or no, wait, maybe he’d be sprawled across his sheets, watching as she shimmied out of her blouse and skirt before climbing onto the bed and crawling towards him on all fours. Her tits like ripe peaches, barely contained by her bra, and her lips, startlingly red, as she bent to take his cock into her hot little mouth.  
  
Of course the reality of the situation was completely different and Will actually growled as the thought hit him that right this minute any number of drunken, horny men might be watching her take off her clothes while he sat here doing absolutely nothing about it.  
  
But what could he do?  
  
Storm the citadel, grab MacKenzie and throw her over his shoulder caveman-style?  
  
 _Hell, yes!_


	2. Chapter Two

With a new glint of determination in his eyes, Will retraced his steps, changing from his suit into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt in record time. The pink and white card he slipped into his wallet, before grabbing his coat and heading for the elevator.  
  
Downstairs, about to hail a cab, he thought better of it and walked half a block to the nearest cash point, withdrawing a thick wad of notes.  
  
The ride downtown through Friday night traffic gave him plenty of time to come up with a plan. He realized that he had no earthly idea about the story MacKenzie was investigating – drugs, prostitution, with a strip club involved it could be just about anything – and he didn’t want either of them to end up in the middle of it.  
  
So he’d go in quietly, have a drink or two and blend in as much as possible. As soon as he spotted MacKenzie he’d find a way to convince her that there were better – safer – ways to investigate, well, whatever it was that she was investigating, and they’d get the hell out.  
  
The front entrance of the club was particularly unprepossessing, with only a blinking pink neon sign of a cat, much like the one on the card he’d found in MacKenzie’s drawer, to confirm that he was in the right place.  
  
He paid the steep cover charge and found himself in a large, dimly lit room, thick with cigarette smoke, the pounding bass already threatening to give him a headache.  
  
Plenty of chairs were scattered about, mostly grouped in ones or twos and all facing the garishly lit stage where two blondes and a redhead were gyrating enthusiastically to an indeterminate R&B soundtrack.  
  
Will drifted towards the back of the room, finding an empty seat well away from any of the other patrons. As he removed his coat, he took the opportunity to glance around the rest of the club and get his bearings. One corner held a bar, where several bachelor party participants were noisily engaged in throwing back tequila shots, cheered on by women in various states of undress. Even from a distance, Will could see that the groom was already blind drunk, and hoped for the bride’s sake that the wedding wasn’t tomorrow.  
  
Having established that MacKenzie wasn’t part of the rowdy group, Will scanned the room. His stomach clenched unpleasantly as he noticed a slim, dark-haired dancer sitting astride the thigh of a man to his left, but a closer look revealed that it wasn’t her.  
  
Frustrated, Will sat down. Had he guessed wrong again? Did his two and two actually equal five? He’d look pretty stupid if it turned out that MacKenzie had just wanted an early night, and he’d spent his Friday evening camped out in this seedy setting waiting fruitlessly for her to appear.   
  
The sound of a throat being cleared brought him out of his musings. Will looked up, then immediately back down, a faint flush spreading along his cheekbones. Mere inches from his face was a pair of large firm-looking breasts, naked except for the silver tassel which hid each nipple.  
  
The owner of these breasts, visibly amused by Will’s reticence, continued to stand there until he hesitantly raised his eyes again.  
  
“Can I get you a drink?” she offered.  
  
“Jameson. Please.”  
  
She shook her head. “Sorry Sweetcheeks, no Jameson. Only scotch we have is Johnny Walker Red.”  
  
“A beer then.”  
  
“Ok, we got Budweiser, Sam Adams, Coors Light, Millers Lite –”  
  
“Sam Adams is fine,” said Will, seeking to end the interaction as soon as possible.  
  
“That’ll be fifteen bucks,” said the waitress.  
  
Will reached for his wallet. “Fifteen’s kinda steep for a beer, isn’t it?” he said automatically.  
  
She shrugged. “You want cheap beer, you go to a college bar. You wanna see girls take their clothes off, you come here.”  
  
Wishing he hadn’t opened his mouth, he handed her a twenty and told her to keep the change.  
  
The cold beer was a welcome distraction, and Will felt relieved that apart from the waitress no-one else seemed inclined to approach him. Even the music had changed to something more palatable, although the opening strains of Nelly’s _Hot in Here_ made him chuckle. _One cliché after another in this place.  
  
_ He leaned back in his chair, almost starting to enjoy himself, when without warning every hair on his body seemed to stand on end.  
  
 _Well_ _fuck me sideways_.  
  
Intellectually, Will recognized that the woman who’d just stepped onto the stage _was_ MacKenzie McHale.  
  
But she was a long, long way from the professionally put together MacKenzie who he worked alongside from Monday to Friday.  
  
 _That_ MacKenzie didn’t line her eyes with kohl, making them appear impossibly, intoxicatingly huge. Nor did she let her hair curl messily in a way that looked like she’d just got out of bed after being well and truly fucked. And she certainly didn’t wear tight dresses that plunged low in the front and finished at mid-thigh, showing just a hint of lacy stocking tops.  
  
 _This_ MacKenzie looked like she’d stepped straight out of Will’s dirtiest fantasy.  
  
And he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.  
  
A flurry of catcalls and wolf whistles greeted her appearance on the stage. Will quietly contemplated violence against every other man in the place, while simultaneously slumping down in his chair in case MacKenzie happened to glance in his direction.  
  
As she started a slow bump and grind, head held high, hands languorously caressing her own body, Will realized that he literally could not look away. The building could burn down around him, the ground could shake beneath his feet – nothing would induce him to tear his eyes from the vision of perfection that was MacKenzie McHale.  
  
His initial fear – that she’d see him in the audience gawping at her like a teenaged boy with his first _Playboy_ – was short-lived. Though her lips were parted in a sultry smile, he could tell from the way her skin creased just the tiniest amount at the edges of her eyes that the bright lights directed towards her prevented her from seeing anything beyond the boundaries of the stage.  
  
As MacKenzie licked her lips and toyed with the full-length zipper that ran down the front of her dress, Will dragged his coat across his lap in a way he hoped appeared subtle. Satisfied that no-one had noticed, he reached under it to adjust his cock, which was already pushing against the confines of his suddenly too-tight jeans.  
  
Shouts of encouragement and crude comments filled the air as MacKenzie lingeringly inched that zipper lower and lower, but if she heard them, she gave no sign.  
  
Sweat beaded on Will’s brow, and he found himself holding his breath as she finally slipped out of the dress, dropping it carelessly to the floor. His imagination – vivid though it was – had hardly done justice to the way the lace and satin lingerie emphasized the generous curves of her breasts.  
  
He desperately wanted to leave a trail of kisses, starting at that sinful rosebud mouth of hers and heading south, with a brief pause to suckle at her pretty nipples, before he finally buried his mouth between her legs.  
  
Then she turned around, and for a brief moment, Will forgot his own name.  
  
Two narrow bands of black lace met in a tiny vee above the curve of her ass, before vanishing almost magically into nothingness, leaving both cheeks entirely bare.  
  
 _Oh Jesus, this was not fair_.  
  
He was so hard it hurt, the zipper on his jeans pressing painfully against the sensitive flesh of his cock, his balls positively aching.  
  
“Another beer?”  
  
Will flinched. It was as though the waitress had materialized out of thin air.  
  
“Or perhaps you’re ready for something else?” she suggested, with a pointed glance at the coat in his lap. “$75 for a lap dance. $150 if you want it in a private room. You pick the girl.”  
  
With a start, Will remembered why he was here and the reason MacKenzie had just performed a racy striptease for a crowd of strangers. He was supposed to be getting her out of danger, not fantasizing about how to get her out of what little remained of her clothes.  
  
“Well?” the woman said, expectantly.  
  
Will swallowed. Not trusting himself to speak, he raised his hand to point at MacKenzie who had finished her act and was in the process of stepping off the stage.  
  
The waitress laughed. “You and every guy in here,” she said. “But I’m afraid you’re out of luck, pal. That one only dances on the stage.”  
  
Will took out his wallet, and the waitress raised her eyebrows as he counted out ten fifties before handing them over.  
  
“Tell her I asked really nicely,” said Will.

 


	3. Chapter Three

He watched as the waitress made her way across the room to MacKenzie and showed her the cash. Although she initially shook her head in refusal, once the woman pointed out Will across the room, MacKenzie stiffened in recognition then nodded.  
  
Will took a deep breath and tried to gather the remnants of his tattered self-control as he waited for the waitress to return with further instructions.  
  
“Ok, you’re up. Now listen carefully. You even think about touching her, one of those guys,” she said, pointing to two burly men standing near the bar, “will not hesitate to throw you out on your ass. And when she says you’re done, you say a very polite thank-you and you get up and leave. Capiche?”  
  
“Got it,” Will agreed automatically.  
  
Holding his coat in front of him, he headed towards the small room to which he’d been directed, turned the door handle and stepped in. MacKenzie stood less than ten feet away with her back to him, and he couldn’t help but stare as she presented him once more with an unobstructed view of her lovely bare ass.  
  
Then she turned and Will instantly flicked his eyes up to her face and winced. He’d seen that expression more times than he liked to count. Thinned lips. Furrowed forehead. The glint of barely suppressed fury in her eyes.  
  
MacKenzie was royally pissed.  
  
“Mac,” he started, hands raised in entreaty, but that single word was all he managed before she cut him off.  
  
“I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here, Will,” MacKenzie said, through gritted teeth, “but you need to listen very carefully and do exactly as I say.”  
  
“There is a camera observing us right now. Do _not_ look up. It’s vision only, they can’t hear what we’re saying. Do you understand?”  
  
“I’m not an idiot, MacKenzie,” he said.  
  
“Right now, I’m finding that pretty hard to believe,” she said under her breath.  
  
“I heard that.”  
  
“You were meant to.”  
  
“I was worried, okay?” admitted Will. “You ran out on me every night this week, so I did a little snooping, found the receipt for _this_ ,” he said, gesturing to her get-up, “as well as an address – and, well, here I am.”  
  
“A receipt and a business card, that’s all it took?” said MacKenzie incredulously, then suddenly it hit her. “Jim. He caved, didn’t he?”  
  
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”  
  
His refusal to incriminate her friend and colleague even in the face of overwhelming evidence appeared to appease MacKenzie; her expression softened and the look she shot Will was more exasperated than angry.  
  
“Get in the chair,” she told him.  
  
“What?” said Will, confused by her apparent non-sequitur.  
  
“Cameras, remember? If you really want to know what’s going on, it’s going to take some time to explain. And no-one’s going to believe that you paid five hundred bucks to come back here for a friendly chat.”  
  
He was dreaming. That must be it. He was dreaming, and the ringing in his ears was actually his alarm clock going off. That was the only possible explanation – because there was no way, no way that MacKenzie McHale was going to brief him on the story she’d been investigating, while simultaneously giving him a lap dance.  
  
When Will made no move to follow her instructions, MacKenzie grabbed the coat out of his hands, placing it to one side, and gave him a push towards the chair.  
  
“Sit. Put your hands behind your back. And try to pay attention,” she said succinctly.  
  
Will’s lips quirked. _Trust me_ _MacKenzie, you have my full and undivided attention_.  
  
As he sat down, Will realized that the only way he was going to get through this with his sanity and a few shreds of dignity intact was if he affected a bravado that could not, in actual fact, have been further from the truth.  
  
Slouching in the chair in a way he hoped appeared relaxed, he linked his hands loosely behind his back and let his legs fall well apart, making no attempt to conceal his obvious erection.  
  
“Whenever you’re ready,” he challenged.  
  
MacKenzie’s slow blink and resolutely neutral expression gave away a lot more than she intended them to. Straightening her spine and without meeting his eyes she placed her hands on Will’s shoulders for balance and swung her left leg over his lap. Once her shoe had made contact with the first rung, she lifted her other foot from the floor and hooked her heel around the chair’s right-hand side, testing her grip before carefully bending her knees.  
  
Will looked down. He could see her leg muscles already stretched taut by her efforts to hover above him, ensuring their bodies didn’t touch at any point other than where her hands rested on his shoulders.  
  
“You’re going to strain something if you keep that up,” he said gruffly.  
  
“I’m fine.”  
  
He watched, mesmerized, as MacKenzie began to circle her hips and she had to say his name three times before he reacted.  
  
“What?”  
  
Their eyes met for the first time since she’d started this and whatever she saw in his made MacKenzie bite her lip and look away.  
  
“Could you just –” she started to say, then appeared to think better of it. “Never mind. Just stay still.”  
  
Hesitantly she adjusted her stance, shifting her weight forward for better stability and wrapping one arm around Will’s neck. Her other hand she placed flat against his chest to brace herself, and he hoped she couldn’t feel the frantic racing of his heart.  
  
“Okay?” MacKenzie checked, once she felt comfortable in this new position.  
  
Will grunted, which she took as assent, and she settled into an unhurried rhythm, alternating between rolling her hips back and forth and swaying slowly from side to side.  
  
Being forced to keep his hands behind his back was torture – pure and simple – and Will cursed whoever’d come up with the idea. He’d never been more desperate to touch MacKenzie in his life; even something as simple as tucking her hair behind her ear would be enough, although if he was being honest, what he really wanted was to wrap his fingers around her slim thighs and hold her steady while he thrust up against her.  
  
“Human trafficking,” MacKenzie said suddenly, startling him from his fantasy.  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“I got a tip last week, from someone I trust _implicitly_ , who told me this place had links to organized crime,” she revealed.  
  
“They’re coercing underage girls to work as strippers, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, drugging them, and shipping them off some hellhole – God only knows where – to become the playthings of men for whom sex and money mean a hell of a lot more than principles or, you know, the law.”  
  
“Girls as young as thirteen or fourteen, Will. It’s just not fair, man.”  
  
By the time she’d finished speaking, MacKenzie was breathing heavily, a combination of physical exertion and sheer frustration.  
  
Will was more than familiar with how worked up MacKenzie could get when faced with blatant injustice, and he admired the hell out of her for it.  
  
 _But Jesus, the danger she’d put herself in.  
  
_ “Why on earth didn’t you tell me about it?” he said forcefully.  
  
“Seriously?” she said, eyebrows raised.  
  
When he didn’t respond, she laughed and shook her head; Will clenched his jaw as the movement caused her breasts to brush against his chest.  
  
“I can just imagine how that would have gone down. Hi Will, popping in to let you know I’ll be spending every night this week getting paid to take my clothes off. Don’t worry, I’m not contemplating a career change, it’s for a story.”  
  
He opened his mouth to respond, but she placed her fingers against his lips to prevent him from speaking.  
  
“And then you’d say, ‘sure thing MacKenzie, keep me updated on your progress’,” she said, affecting a deeper voice and imitating Will’s American accent.  
  
“Are you done?”  
  
She shrugged, then rolled her neck and shoulders. Will could tell from the strain showing on her face that the awkward position she was in was starting to cause her discomfort, and he resolved to wrap this up quickly.  
  
“I would have found another way. One that was better,” he said. “And safer.”  
  
“Oh, really?” she huffed, then without warning dropped down to straddle his denim-clad thighs.  
  
At his startled look she swallowed thickly. “My legs were hurting, okay?” she said, her voice pitched higher than usual.  
  
Will nodded, not daring to say anything. He was incredibly conscious of the way her long stocking-clad legs were suddenly pressed against him; even through his jeans he could feel the heat radiating from her skin, mere inches from his throbbing cock.  
  
“And as for better,” MacKenzie continued, sounding affronted by his lack of faith in her, “I’ll have you know that I already have an incriminating recording on my Blackberry of two of the guys discussing plans for Saturday. When I come back tomorrow night I’ll –”  
  
Will cut her off. “Well you can forget about that for a start,” he said without thinking.  
  
“I beg your pardon?” MacKenzie squeaked.  
  
“I said –”  
  
“I heard what you said. But there is no way known that I’m going to give up on this now. This is _not_ just a story. It’s – ”  
  
“Mac, I know,” Will interrupted, “and I’m not trying to belittle what you’ve achieved, but – ”  
  
“I wasn’t finished,” MacKenzie continued, raising her voice and emphasizing her words with a none too gentle thump to his chest.  
  
“I am a strong and capable person. I survived a warzone for Christ’s sake,” she hissed angrily, her tone now edged with a tinge of hysteria. “So what makes you think that you have any right, any right _whatsoever_ , to tell me what I can and cannot do?”  
  
“Because I’m in love with you,” Will roared.

 

 


	4. Chapter Four

MacKenzie went white, the blood draining from her face. Her hands clutched blindly at Will’s shirt as though she was trying to anchor herself in the face of his shocking declaration.  
  
Will cursed silently. That was not what he’d meant to say.  
  
 _What in the hell do I do now?  
  
_ MacKenzie was looking at him in a way that suggested he might have suddenly grown an extra head, and he had no earthly idea how to right the situation.  
  
“You – you –” she finally managed to stutter, then fell silent again, brown eyes wide with shock.  
  
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” said Will, and heedless of the consequences whipped his arms round from where they’d been resting behind his back. With his left hand he gripped MacKenzie’s shoulder, steadying her, for she still looked off-kilter – as though the universe had inexplicably turned upside down, which in a way, he supposed it had.  
  
The other went straight to the back of her head, tangling in the messy curls and bringing their lips together.  
  
She was still and quiet at first, almost unnaturally so, with only the feverish beating of her pulse under his fingers to tell him that she was aware of the pressure of his mouth against hers.  
  
But just as he was about to draw back, MacKenzie sighed against him and parted her lips, and when he slipped his tongue between them she came alive in his arms.  
  
Will found himself forced to make a rapid mental gear-change. One second MacKenzie was cool and unresponsive, the next she was clawing at him like a wildcat, eyes ablaze, her mouth seeking his again and again as though she quite literally couldn’t get enough of him.  
  
“Hon, you’re killing me,” he groaned into her mouth as MacKenzie writhed on his lap, grinding against him as their hips made contact.  
  
Will was thoroughly undone. First there’d been the prolonged erotic torment she’d unknowingly inflicted on him over the course of the evening. The striptease. The lap dance. And now this latest onslaught. The tiny part of his brain that wasn’t occupied in returning MacKenzie’s kisses tried desperately to remember if he’d seen a hotel nearby.  
  
And that was when all hell broke loose.  
  
At the sound of the first crash, Will reluctantly tore his mouth from MacKenzie’s. He assumed someone had finally noticed his blatant disregard of the hands-free directive and that the beefy security guys were about to rip him from her side. He’d seen the size of them; there was no way he could take them both on.  
  
But the second and third thuds confused him, especially when they weren’t immediately followed by someone kicking in the door.  
  
He half-rose from the chair, ignoring MacKenzie’s mewl of protest, and listened. On the other side of the door voices were raised in anger and he heard a clatter that sounded like furniture being overturned.  
  
“Stay here,” Will cautioned MacKenzie, and detached himself from her so he could open the door just a crack and peer out.  
  
 _Son of a bitch.  
  
_ Will took a deep breath and carefully shut the door behind him.  
  
“What is it?” asked MacKenzie. “You’re scaring me, Will.”  
  
“Cops,” he said flatly. “Looks like you’re not the only one who’s onto them. The club’s being raided.”  
  
“Holy shit. What should we do?”  
  
“Any chance there’s another way out of here?” asked Will, although he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.  
  
MacKenzie shook her head. “There are stairs further back. But they only go up, not down.”  
  
“Ok, Plan B,” said Will. He grabbed his coat from where MacKenzie had discarded it earlier. “Put this on.”  
  
She shrugged into it and tried to roll up the sleeves while Will quickly did up as many buttons as he could reach. It was ridiculously big on her, but the only other option was going out there in her underwear, and Will was entirely uninterested in anyone other than himself enjoying that view from here on in.  
  
“Stay close, and follow my lead.”  
  
The club’s main room bore little resemblance to the scene Will had left only ten minutes earlier. Apparently someone had found a light switch, for harsh overhead fluorescents illuminated every seedy corner. Chairs were overturned, broken glass littered the floor and Will could hear someone sobbing quietly. The bachelor party group was still at the bar, but looking much more subdued, and Will was pleased to see both security guards cuffed and kneeling next to the stage. At least one of them must have put up a fight for he had a bloody nose and a police officer was reading him his rights.  
  
With an experience born of his lengthy history in the courtroom, Will unerringly identified the most junior officer present and with MacKenzie in tow strode across the room to his side. Waving his press pass in the most obnoxious manner possible, Will cleared his throat.  
  
“Will McAvoy from NewsNight, I need to talk to you about your investigation,” he said, and before the disconcerted officer could reply, followed up with a series of rapid fire questions deliberately designed to alarm and intimidate.  
  
“How would you respond to allegations that the NYPD put the lives of young girls at risk by waiting weeks to act on this case, despite an overwhelming amount of evidence? Have you apprehended those responsible or has incompetence enabled them to slip through your fingers? Was unreasonable force a factor in this gentleman’s injury?” Will gestured towards the security guard who was currently struggling to his feet, hampered by the handcuffs restricting his movement.  
  
The young officer blinked and tried unsuccessfully to stammer out a response. But unfortunately, Will’s posturing had also caught the attention of one of the senior detectives working the case who clapped a hand on Will’s shoulder, dismissing the younger officer with an offhand gesture.  
  
“Will McAvoy, NewsNight,” Will said, but the detective cut him off before he could repeat his questions.  
  
“Yeah, I know who you are. What I don’t know is how you got in, and what you think you’re doing here.”  
  
Sensing that the detective would be a lot harder to bullshit, Will resolved to give absolutely nothing away. This guy was already way too observant – he was eyeing the oversized coat and MacKenzie’s swollen lips in a way that Will didn’t like one bit.  
  
Unfortunately MacKenzie didn’t show the same restraint. “We’re here for the same reason you are,” she said. “Crimes have been committed and the public deserves to know about it, Detective…”  
  
“Martinez,” he filled in. “And you are?”  
  
“MacKenzie McHale, NewsNight’s Executive Producer.” She held out her right hand, but instead of shaking it he grabbed her wrist and before she could react, had pushed the loose sleeve of the coat all the way up to her bare shoulder, revealing a narrow black bra strap.  
  
MacKenzie gasped, and Will stepped forward menacingly. “Get your hands off her.”  
  
Unhurriedly Martinez let go, the sleeve dropping back to cover MacKenzie’s arm. “Easy, Mr McAvoy. Let’s not forget who and where we are.”  
  
“What do you want?” Will demanded, dropping all attempts at pretence.  
  
“I want to know everything that you know, and how you know it. And when you’ve told me – in detail – then I’ll decide whether you’re free to go, or if you’ll be accompanying me back to the precinct,” he said ominously.  
  
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” said Will. “We won’t be saying anything without a lawyer present.”  
  
Detective Martinez shrugged. “If that’s how you want to play it. Have a seat and I’ll find someone to take you in.”  
  
Will righted two of the overturned chairs, dusting them off and offering MacKenzie an encouraging smile which she didn’t return. As they sat down, his fingers found hers and squeezed. “Hey, it’s going to be fine. I’ll call my lawyer, he’ll meet us there. Don’t give it another thought.”  
  
“Will,” MacKenzie said, biting her lip. “You’re a lawyer. Can’t you represent us?”  
  
“And have a fool for a client?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”  
  
“Please,” she persisted, tilting her head and placing a hand on his knee. “We haven’t done anything wrong. Well not much anyway,” honesty forced her to admit. “Surely if we just tell him the truth – ”  
  
“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. Sound familiar?” Will asked.  
  
MacKenzie pouted. “Ok then, Mr Bigshot Lawyer. What are they going to charge me with?”  
  
“Stealing hearts and blowing minds,” he quipped, trying to make her laugh.  
  
MacKenzie groaned. “That is a truly terrible line. Be serious.”  
  
“Ok, fine. Off the top of my head: deceptive acts and practices unlawful, participating in an obscene performance – that’s just a misdemeanor, solicitation possibly, if those cameras have recording capabilities ,” Will rattled off.  
  
“Now hang on a minute, pal,” said MacKenzie, pulling away from him. “Solicitation? What the hell? I didn’t – I mean we didn’t actually do anything.  
  
Repossessing himself of her hand, he patted it in a way he hoped was reassuring. “New York state laws are pretty fluid in their definition of sexual conduct. I mean, I handed over five hundred bucks, came back there and after I said _what I said_ ,” he hedged, “you kinda jumped me.”  
  
“Oh God,” MacKenzie said, coloring in embarrassment. “This evening has been a complete nightmare.”  
  
Will swallowed and looked away so MacKenzie wouldn’t see how much her comment had stung.  
  
 _She’s upset. It’s just an expression. She didn’t mean it. Did she?  
  
_ His brain chose that moment to remind him that she hadn’t responded _at all_ when he’d blurted out his love for her earlier. Sure, she’d kissed him – eventually – but he’d started that as well. Anxiously he reviewed her actions after she’d first learned that he’d followed her here. She’d been angry with him, then uncomfortable; she’d had trouble meeting his eyes and had done everything possible to avoid physical contact, even to the point of hurting herself.  
  
The revelation made Will feel physically ill. MacKenzie hadn’t wanted him here. He was no better than any of the other jerks, paying for the titillation of a cheap thrill. If anything, he was worse. He’d practically forced himself on MacKenzie and his attentions were clearly unwanted.  
  
 _No wonder she’d preferred to take her chances with the detective if it meant she could make her getaway that much sooner._  
  
He realized that he still had her hand clasped in his and had been subconsciously stroking his thumb across her knuckles for the last few minutes. Now, with studied casualness, he let go. It was not his to hold.  
  
Will exhaled noisily. “I’m gonna go talk to Detective Martinez. See if we can work something out.”  
  
Startled, MacKenzie looked up. “What changed your mind?”  
  
But he’d already started across the room, so her question went unanswered.

 


	5. Chapter 5

It took Will almost ten minutes of fast-talking to convince Detective Martinez of his and MacKenzie’s _relative_ innocence in the events of the evening, and in the end he had to resort to offering up her audio recording for their freedom.  
  
Once Martinez had agreed to the trade, Will waved MacKenzie over and explained the terms of the deal he’d brokered. She pursed her lips, and seemed inclined to turn mulish at the loss of her only real evidence, but Will’s speaking look convinced her otherwise. Their silent communication did not go unnoticed by the Detective.  
  
“So I take it you two are…” Martinez trailed off.  
  
“Yes,” said MacKenzie, right at the same moment that Will said, “No.”  
  
Will looked at her sharply but MacKenzie wouldn’t meet his eyes.  
  
“Okay then,” said Martinez, glancing from one to the other. “If you want to give me that audio, you can be on your way.”  
  
With a quick nod, MacKenzie slipped away to the upstairs dressing room and returned less than five minutes later, holding her handbag and with her clothes draped over her arm. Reluctantly she handed her Blackberry to Martinez, who opened the Voice Notes app, selected the most recent recording and pressed play. It was difficult to hear over the noise of the other officers who were still processing staff and clubgoers, so he raised it to his ear and within seconds a smile came over his face.  
  
“ _Very_ well done, Ms McHale. If you ever decide you’ve had enough of producing, you should give me a call. Here’s my card,” he said.  
  
“Please Detective, call me MacKenzie.” She beamed at the praise he’d bestowed on her and slipped his card into the pocket of her borrowed coat; Will quietly resolved to shred it the moment her back was turned.  
  
“We should get going,” Will said, placing a possessive hand at MacKenzie’s elbow.  
  
“Of course,” said Martinez to MacKenzie, ignoring Will entirely. “Why don’t I pop round on Monday, bring back your cell phone?”  
  
 _What the fuck? Twenty minutes ago he was threatening to arrest us and now he’s flirting with her?  
  
_ “That would be – ” MacKenzie started to say, but Will cut her off.  
  
“Completely unnecessary. I’ll send someone to collect it,” he said, and quickly guided MacKenzie towards the door before Martinez could formulate a reply.  
  
His equilibrium still disturbed by the exchange, on autopilot Will guided MacKenzie into a cab and gave his own address. It wasn’t until they pulled up at his building some minutes later that he realized what he’d done.  
  
“Do you want to come up for a drink?” he offered and was rewarded with a smile that put the one she’d given Martinez into the shade.  
  
The long tails of Will’s coat gave MacKenzie trouble as she tried to exit the cab, so he leaned in awkwardly to relieve her of the bundle of clothing and promptly dropped half of it on the sidewalk.  
  
“Oops, sorry,” he apologized, bending to retrieve what turned out to be her blouse and a pair of silky blue panties.  
  
MacKenzie tried unsuccessfully to stifle a grin as Will realized what he was holding and flushed self-consciously. Hastily he handed them back to her, before letting her precede him into the lobby and the elevator waiting beyond.  
  
As they entered his apartment, Will cracked his knuckles in a nervous gesture and glanced over at MacKenzie who in contrast looked the picture of calm.  
  
“What can I get you?” Will asked. “Jameson, gin and tonic, a glass of wine –”  
  
“Wine would be lovely. Something dry and white please,” said MacKenzie.  
  
“Coming right up. Make yourself at home.” He opened the fridge and had just selected a bottle of wine when he heard the stereo come on, the opening notes of Van Morrison’s _Moondance_ filtering through into the kitchen. Will chuckled to himself. There were plenty of subjects on which his views and MacKenzie’s seemed polar opposites, but music had never been one of them; their tastes were very similar.  
  
Glass of scotch in one hand and MacKenzie’s wine in the other, Will made his way into the living room. Frowning, he noticed that she’d left the ceiling light off, opting instead to turn on several of the lamps that were scattered around the room. As his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, he caught sight of MacKenzie leaning against the wall and came very close to spilling both drinks all over the floor.  
  
 _What in the actual fuck is going on here?  
  
_ At some point in the last few minutes she’d shed his coat, but apparently hadn’t found it necessary to replace it with anything else. In the low light her skin was luminous, set off by the tiny scraps of black lace that concealed only the bare minimum from view.  
  
It was only Will’s utter familiarity with the path between the kitchen and his couch that enabled him to take the final few steps without falling over his own feet. Without taking his eyes off MacKenzie, he set her wineglass on the side table and sank gratefully into the leather cushions before downing half his scotch in one large gulp.  
  
On the other side of the room, MacKenzie bit her lip and continued to watch Will steadily as he lowered his glass and took a deep breath.  
  
 _Oh God, I can’t believe I’m about to say thi_ s _, but…  
  
_ “MacKenzie, I think you should put some clothes on.”  
  
She raised her eyebrows and took a small step towards to the couch. “Oh, really? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?”  
  
Teasingly she ran her hand along the waistband of her panties and Will found himself unable to look away, his throat going suddenly dry when she let one finger dip below the lace.  
  
“I was thinking about you when I bought these, you know,” MacKenzie continued conversationally. “Of course that was before I knew you were going to see me wearing them, but it didn’t stop me from choosing something I thought you’d like.”  
  
Will felt his face growing warm and suspected he was wearing a slightly demented expression. _What the hell was she playing at, blowing cold one minute and red hot the next?  
  
_ “Did I guess right?” MacKenzie asked. “Do you like them, Will?”  
  
“I-I,” he stammered. As far as he was concerned, like was the understatement of the century.  
  
Her smile was the very definition of self-satisfied. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, and with a gentle sway of her hips sauntered the rest of the way across the room. Involuntarily, his eyes were drawn to her breasts and those legs; his fingers itched to reach out and stroke her thigh, to feel the lacy texture of her stockings catch against his skin, but he worried that she was doing this for the wrong reasons.  
  
Will swallowed and wet his lips with his tongue, determined to regain the power of speech. “MacKenzie, you don’t have to do this,” he finally managed.  
  
“Oh, but I want to,” she said, gently nudging his legs apart so she could stand between them.  
  
Will took another deep breath and scrubbed at his forehead with the palm of his hand. She was not making this easy for him – at all. “What I mean is, I’ve been _incredibly_ direct tonight about what I want, and how I feel about you. And you shouldn’t feel obliged to reciprocate if you don’t –”  
  
He made the mistake of looking up at MacKenzie who was making no attempt to hide her amusement, and the diplomatic words he’d been trying to string together flew right out of his head.  
  
“For fuck’s sake, Mac, I practically forced myself on you,” Will blurted out, then winced, his right hand gripping the tumbler of scotch so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He waited for her to say something, to come to her senses, to put her clothes back on and walk right out of his apartment. But she didn’t do any of that.  
  
“Billy,” MacKenzie said, leaning over him and taking the glass out of his suddenly nerveless fingers. “You’re an idiot.”  
  
She took a long swallow before placing it on the side table next to the couch, crouching in front of him and putting her hands on his knees.  
  
“Look at me, please,” she said firmly.  
  
Reluctantly, Will did as she’d asked. There was no mistaking the tenderness and love that shone out of MacKenzie’s eyes, and he felt his heart leap in his chest like a skittish fawn.  
  
“What on _earth_ gave you the idea that I don’t want this just as much as you do?” she asked.  
  
 _Hang on a second, did she just say…?  
  
_ He ducked his head sheepishly and mumbled, “You seemed uncomfortable.”  
  
“Do you blame me?” MacKenzie asked, ducking her head. “For the first time in _years_ you wanted me to touch you again, and we had an audience for it.”  
  
 _The first time? Try the thousand and first.  
  
_ He covered her hands with his own, thumbs tracing abstract patterns on her wrists. “It wasn’t the first time,” he rasped, and then the words came tumbling out. “I’ve thought about it _a lot_. Every day, in fact. Whenever I see you, or talk to you, and even sometimes when I don’t, I’m thinking about it.”  
  
MacKenzie laughed in delight. “William Duncan McAvoy, do you mean to say that you’re mentally undressing me at _every_ rundown?”  
  
He nodded.  
  
Her eyes narrowed as she got to her feet. “What about when we’re arguing?”  
  
“Especially then,” Will said, mischief dancing in his eyes. _Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.  
  
_ “Incorrigible man,” MacKenzie said quellingly, but the effectiveness of the rebuke was rather reduced by the fact that she had already toed off her heels and was in the process of settling herself into Will’s lap.  
  
“Please tell me I don’t have to keep my hands to myself this time,” Will said, fingers hovering a scant inch above the patch of pale flesh between her underwear and the top of her stockings.  
  
“You don’t,” she murmured, shivering when he immediately ran his thumb across her skin, just above where the narrow band of lace encircled her thigh.  
  
Will was pretty sure he had an extremely silly grin on his face, but when he leaned in and MacKenzie met him halfway he decided he couldn’t care less. Her lips were soft and warm and she moaned as his tongue moved slickly against hers, the sound going straight to his groin.  
  
Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her even closer and let his fingers dawdle across her smooth lower back. With his other hand he gently tilted her head back, giving him a better angle at which to explore her mouth. MacKenzie tasted like the scotch she’d had earlier, but somehow the flavor was infinitely richer than when he’d drunk it from the glass.  
  
Will was pretty sure he’d have been content to spend the whole night doing nothing but kissing her, if she hadn’t started to rock _devastatingly_ slowly against the bulge in his jeans.  
  
“Will,” she moaned, as he abandoned her mouth to suck on her collarbone.  
  
“Hmmm?”  
  
“Touch me. Please,” she begged, voice already strained with arousal.  
  
With a flick of his fingers he unclasped her bra and drew it down her arms, secretly proud that he’d managed it first go, without even a modicum of fumbling. The fact that he was still fully clothed, while MacKenzie wore only a tiny black thong felt unbearably erotic, and he took a moment to permanently imprint the image onto his memory.  
  
But as her pale pink nipples puckered in the cool air, he couldn’t wait any longer. MacKenzie’s eyes slipped shut as Will cupped both breasts in his hands, thumbs teasing their tips into firm little peaks.  
  
His hands looked huge and dark against her delicate skin. On the stereo, Van Morrison sang about love, crazy love and Will thought he knew exactly what the other man meant.  
  
“So pretty,” he murmured to himself, bending his head to nuzzle first at one breast, then the other, before indulging in a little taste test. “Delicious,” he pronounced them, drawing giggles from MacKenzie.  
  
“Oh you think that’s funny, do you?” said Will.  
  
Very deliberately he walked his fingers down her sides and past her hips until her ass was cradled in his hands. Then he held her still and lifting himself bodily off the couch, thrust up against her once, twice, three times in quick succession. MacKenzie’s laughter ceased abruptly and he assumed from her wild-eyed look that he was doing something right.  
  
She’d spent the entire evening driving him crazy, but now that Will had the advantage he was determined to hang onto it.  
  
Deftly he adjusted his grip until he had one hand positioned between her legs and could reach out and stroke her through her satin panties. He could smell her arousal, a rich earthy fragrance almost like that of a fine wine, and the thought that very soon he’d be dipping his wick in there made him even harder. The more he played with her, the hotter and slicker she got; his fingers danced like mad and MacKenzie moaned, slumping across him and pressing her face into his neck.  
  
God he loved seeing her like this; but at the same time it was almost too much. His cock throbbed demandingly and Will resorted to a trick that had served him well since his high school days, silently naming college football teams, one for each letter of the alphabet. He started with the _Arizona Wildcats_ and _Boise State_ _Broncos_ , but only managed to get as far as the _Florida Gators_ before MacKenzie went rigid, her teeth grazing his throat as she came apart in his arms.  
  
Every baser instinct urged Will to strip off his jeans, yank down MacKenzie’s panties and bury himself inside her before she’d even finished quivering, but in an extraordinary feat of willpower he resisted, smoothing her hair back from her face and pressing a kiss to her forehead.  
  
When she finally opened her eyes, they glittered in the low light. Will was holding himself very still, and MacKenzie seemed to recognize that she’d pushed him about as far as he could handle, for she rose up on her knees and with a series of efficient moves had his belt unbuckled, and button and zipper undone within seconds.  
  
Supporting his weight with his arms, Will lifted his hips and MacKenzie tackled his jeans and boxers, grinning as his cock sprang free, but almost immediately giving vent to a disgruntled whine when she discovered that the shoes he still wore prevented her from getting anything below his knees. Without hesitation she stripped off her panties, then took out her frustration on his shirt, grabbing each side and impatiently tugging them apart.  
  
“MacKenzie,” Will chuckled as the buttons flew everywhere, “Settle down.” But his laughter shifted into a low, shaky groan as she grasped his cock by the base and guided him inside her.  
  
 _Finally_.  
  
“Feels good. So tight,” Will grunted.  
  
In vain he scrabbled for purchase against the couch so he could thrust up into her, but found himself hobbled by the jeans around his knees and the fact that MacKenzie was already riding him, head flung back, exposing the long, slim column of her throat.  
  
He wanted to bite at the soft skin there before soothing the hurt with his tongue, a mark that would leave amorous Detectives, and anyone else for that matter, in absolutely no doubt about the fact that MacKenzie was off limits.  
  
But first he needed to lose the damned jeans.  
  
“Mac, could you just – ” he grumbled, before realizing that she was too far gone for anything he said to make sense. With some deliberate wriggling which just served to get MacKenzie even more worked up, he managed to toe off both shoes, but there was no way he could get rid of his remaining clothing from this position.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he wrapped an arm around MacKenzie’s waist and braced himself against the edge of the couch before rising to his feet, red-faced and panting from the effort.  
  
 _Jesus Christ, I am way too old for this shit.  
  
_ “Will, w-what, what are you doing?” MacKenzie stammered, strung out and almost sobbing in pleasure as her own weight and every movement forced him deeper within her.  
  
“Hang on, I gotta get – just hang on,” he said unsteadily.  
  
She whimpered, eyes wide as Will let go of the couch and wobbled dangerously, one foot off the ground as he shucked off his jeans. He tried to raise his leg high enough that he could pull off his sock, but after coming very close to losing his balance, gave it up as a bad job and focused on getting MacKenzie flat on her back as quickly as possible.  
  
She let loose with a strangled cry as he pressed her into the cushions and began to fuck her slow and hard. He’d been thinking about doing this from the moment he’d watched her strip down to nothing but her bra and panties, and, if he was being honest, ever since she’d stormed back into his life more than a year ago, spouting nonsense about _Don Quixote_ in the original French and refusing to let him get away with any of his usual shit.  
  
Will positively growled as MacKenzie wrapped her long, long legs around him, the lace trim on the stockings she still wore teasing at the wiry hairs on his thighs, her rosy little nipples butting provocatively against his chest with every thrust.  
  
 _Too much, too much.  
  
_ He knew this alone probably wasn’t enough to get her off again, but his hands and arms were occupied in supporting his own weight so he didn’t crush MacKenzie beneath him and the higher brain function he usually relied on seemed to have abandoned him in his time of need. He grimaced harshly as he tried and failed to remember the name of a single football team, tried to hold on longer, tried to make it good for her too, until on a downward stroke she reached up to whisper in his ear.  
  
“S’ok, Billy. Let go for me.”  
  
And with her words, he was lost. His movements became erratic, hips thrusting wildly for a few more seconds before stuttering to a stop as he erupted into her and a prism of colors exploded, shockingly bright, behind his closed eyelids.  
  
The next time Will opened his eyes he was relieved to discover that he’d somehow managed to collapse next to MacKenzie instead of on top of her. His head was pillowed on her breasts and she was absently running her hand through his hair as the sweat cooled on their bodies.  
  
A flush stained his cheeks as he suddenly remembered that he’d left her hanging. Propping himself up on one elbow, he struggled to find the right combination of words that would somehow convey an apology, explain that she had the power to reduce him from a confident, experienced man to a flustered boy with raging hormones, and promise to do better in the future – assuming that there was a future for them, which by now he was pretty sure there was – but she cut him off mid spiel.  
  
“It was perfect, Will. And I love you too.”  
  
 _Well then.  
  
_ He lay back down, reassured but still feeling like he had something to prove next time around. And then as he felt her nipple brush past his cheek and his cock twitched in interest _already_ , he reflected that there might be _some_ advantages to feeling like a teenager again after all.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed it ♥ Gemma
> 
> Oh, and if you’re curious about MacKenzie’s lingerie of choice:
> 
> http://www.agentprovocateur.com/lingerie/bras/info/margot-bra~black  
> http://www.agentprovocateur.com/lingerie/knickers/info/margot-thong~black  
> http://www.agentprovocateur.com/hosiery/hold-ups/info/parisienne-hold-ups~black


End file.
